


Be Safe, Alexander

by Astoria Gracewell (arh581958)



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Alec, Bamf!Magnus, Fluff, M/M, Magnus heals Alec, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Slow Build, URT, UST, Unresolved ROMANTICAL Tension, almost getting together, don't worry Magnus heals him, feel the UST, injured!alec, make URT a thing, slight mission fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6203845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Astoria%20Gracewell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of a foul-smelling alley, Magnus meets and heals a battered-up Alec before ending the Nephilim back to the battle. </p><p>(Or: Magnus uses his magical fingers to innocently grab Alec's ass while to <i>heal</i> him.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Safe, Alexander

**Author's Note:**

> I **needed** some Alec needing Magnus fluff after the recent arranged marriage clusterfuck. So I wrote this.

Alexander loved shadowhunting. No, scratch that. In reality, Alec was raised to believe that he  _ loved  _ shadowhunting. It was the only occupation, aside from running the entire NYC Institute or playing attack dog for the Clave, that was made available to him when he was growing-up. There wasn’t much choice in the matter because all Nephilim children  _ had _ to take start from somewhere. 

So, no, he did not love it. He may  _ like _ it but not for demon-slaying abilities or whatnot. It gave him a reason to protect his younger sister. It did not help that his sworn  _ parabatai _ was a reckless idiot with a hero complex. Being tied to Jace meant more missions since the blond was single-mindedly focused on proving to everyone that he was the  _ best damn shadowhunter _ this side of America. 

The things he did for the people he loved! 

Alec dragged his feet into the alley. The narrow space was damp and dark and a putrid smell of rotting food assaulted his nose. He was too focused on keeping the weight off his bloodied leg to hurl-out his dinner. His head growing light even as trudged his way, half-slumped against the cold red-brick walls lined with grime and moss and his free hand gripping in frosty white knuckles. The rune on his forearm was warm but not searing, at least he knew that his parabatai was still alive. 

Tonight’s problem was a nasty set of hobgoblins wreaking their infamous brand of tiny havoc. Mundanes were terrified, claiming everything from hauntings to alien for the past two-weeks on the news. The mission was supposed to be simple: find the problem and fix it. Turns out, that the little creatures were annoyed by the ruckus created by the construction crew in a nearby building, and they were not keen on negotiating anything.  

On the next step, his injured leg buckled beneath him, making him cry out a curse. He leaned against titanium bow, praying to angels that it doesn’t snap under his weight. At the mouth of the alley, he could see the telltale signs of Isabelle’s whip and the glow of Jace’s blades. He needed to get there. He needed to help them. It was his job. It was his duty. It was—

_ SNAP _

Alec whipped around quickly, dagger drawn out and pointed an inch away from Magnus’ bare throat. “What are you doing here?” He snapped, “I almost killed you!” He reeled back his dagger. The white light dimmed until only the adamas hilt was left. He visibly flinched when he tucked it back into his utility belt. 

Magnus’ ever-present Cheshire grin was present. “Why, hello to you too,  _ Alexander _ .” He purred on the name. His cat-like eyes were especially wide and especially bright in the mask of darkness, just like his feline friends. He was a sight for sore eyes. What Alec would give to stare at the man without fear of—of everything. 

“Magnus,” the Nephilim said with a sigh, and the sound of fighting carried into the alley. “I’ve got to—I’ve got to—go—” He turned his attention back to the fight but a warm hand on his neck stopped him. The heat of it bled into his sweat-chilled skin. It was dry and confident and  _ powerful _ . “What are you—?” He turned again, neck craning as he glanced towards the Warlock. 

“Shhh,” Magnus had one of his ring-covered fingers raised. Once more, Alec’s eyes drifted down to the other boy’s lips, lined with dark magenta lipstick.  He stared at the way it curved into a circle before slowly blossoming into a small smile. “You’re staring, Alexander.” 

“Uh, am I?” Alec felt breathless when he asked, looking away. “I, uhm, I—”

“Oh now,” Magnus grinned even wider, “You don’t have to stop on my account. I’m perfectly content on having your eyes trained on me. You have such beautiful blue eyes,  _ Alexander _ .” 

A small tint of pink rose on Alec’s cheeks despite the obvious blood loss, making him woozy. 

“You look at me like I’m the most interesting thing in the world.” He whispered, brain-to-mouth filter going on haywire. He hadn’t meant to say it. It was just—with Magnus so close—smelling to nice—and the lack of blood in his system—it was safe to say that he was not in optimal condition. He flinched when the Warlock moved his hand. 

Magnus’ eyes softened as he tenderly touched Alec’s leg, high on the Shadowhunter’s thigh, nearly cupping the pert rounded cheek, making Alec squeak in surprise. He said nothing. His fingers felt for the rip in Alec’s jeans and, with a flick-twist movement, touched the skin beneath. Alec inhaled loudly. 

“I’m not the best at healing magic,” Magnus confessed with an apologetic look. 

“You don’t—it’s fine—”

“Oh, but I do, Alexander,” He told Alec, who was putting on a determined front. “Because I know you and your stubborn head will go back out there and fight with your two reckless wards. Even if you’re light-headed with blood-loss and the fingers on your right hand are broken.” Alec thought he might faint when Magnus gingerly held his hand. “And I don’t want you getting into more danger.”

Alec literally had no words to say. He and Magnus—they’ve shared a drink and a single kiss but nothing more. There was no talk of their  _ together-ness _ or non- _ together-ness _ . They did not talk about it even if they spent hours on useless late-night phone calls and nonsensical texts throughout the day. What they were and what they weren’t was out of the question. But here they were, Magnus offering to heal Alec’s wounds again. 

“Don’t,” Alec whispered, voice rough. “That’s not why… you… me… not that.” 

“I know,” Magnus replied but his eyes were gentle when he spoke. “Believe it or not, you’re the first to act me  _ not to _ . But I want to, Alexander. This is as much for me as it is for you. You know I can’t go out there and help you with those pesky little hobgoblins even if they are wretched. But  _ this _ —” he emphasized by pulsing his magic to Alec’s injured thigh, healing the deep gash, “—I can do. So let me.” 

One of Alec’s hands instinctively wrapped curled around Magnus’ bicep. The sensation of Magnus’ magic on his skin was prickly and new and something that he would never get used to. He shivered as he felt the skin patching together. He knew that, if he checked, tomorrow morning there would not even be a scar. It confused him why Magnus was doing this like this for  _ him _ . He was nobody special. 

“There,” Magnus cooed, squeezing Alec’s newly healed backside as his prize. 

“Magnus!” Alec blushed some more, “You really didn’t have to. I would have been fine.” 

“And I would have been worried,” Magnus replied. He leaned into Alec’s space, breath warming Alec’s frosty cheek, “Get out there and show them hell, sweetcheeks, or heaven ‘cause they might actually enjoy hell. But you get the point. Show them not to mess with my Sha—uhm—the best archer in town.”

Alec would have laughed. But there was a hobgoblin throw into the alley way, halting an inch away from them, hovering in thin air. He spied Magnus’ raised hand right beside his head where small sparks of blue were present. “Yeah,” he breathed out, impossibly shocked and impossibly turned-on, “I have to—I have to go—”

Magnus smirked. “Be safe, Alexander.”

“Hazards of the job.” Alec kissed Magnus on the nose, too quick for the warlock to respond, red-faced, before jogging off to the mouth of the alley to where his sister and his parabatai were fighting. His heart was thundering a million beats a minute, blood singing to tune that was inappropriate for the battlefield, but he could care less because his thigh was warm where Magnus had healed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I know some of you read RO. I'm sorry if I haven't updated that regularly. I'm trying. Really trying to update it every week but I'm stressing out over it. I'm so sorry.
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [**INSPIRE ME**](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr.


End file.
